


Winter Wonderland

by MidnightofLight



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Snow, Winter, jeanmarco, snk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:04:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightofLight/pseuds/MidnightofLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter in Trost and the snow just keeps piling. Marcos forgotten to zip his coat and put his hood up. How infuriating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Attack on Titan. Enjoy!

In all honesty, it’s one of the harshest winters that City Trost has ever seen. The snow piles up in torrents, sometimes covering doors and keeping people inside for days, restricting the Scouting Legion and bringing the constant worry of a titan attack. Winter's arrival keeps them on their toes, making sure they have proper preparations in case they get snowed in the barracks. _I_ _t’s horrible_ , but sometimes on days like this, the trainees get time off.

 Despite the constant cold, pounding of snow, and threat of the titans, children run outside to enjoy the weather.To them, most adults would not understand—Lord knows Jean doesn’t.  They’ve been waiting all year for the winter wonderland.

Jean Kirstein feels as though he’s completely indifferent to winter. He doesn’t really care that there’s snow, or that sometimes they get off of training because they’re locked in the barracks. It's nice to get a day off to relax, but at the same time he's itching for training and to get stronger. However, winter still pulls at him to come outside to at least watch the children play and dig his own two feet into the snow.

He should be training. But when does he ever get a chance to enjoy himself?

“Jean!”

And there’s Marco.

He’s running up to Jean, black hair that had been carefully put into place whipping messily in the constant breeze. The freckles on his face are somewhat unnoticeable, melding in like dark snowflakes. As he draws closer, Jean realizes that his friend’s nose and ears are red, bitten by the chill. But, of course, he’s grinning stupidly wide like he always does.

“Hey,” he responds and smiles a little as Marco plops down next to him.

Jean watches as a two children hop on a sled and push it down a hill, laughing with no cares in the whole damned world. He wonders how they can be so ignorant when titans are eating their own people. Humans are being savagely murdered every day, and these children are playing outside, rushing down a hill on a piece of constructed wood. He never played like that as a kid.

It’s sort of hypocritical, Jean guesses. He’s doing the same thing, but at least the constant threat of the titans still lingers in his mind. Any second a titan could break down the walls and devour them to gory death, but they’re still sitting in the snow. Any second-

“It’s so beautiful out!” Marco exclaims.

Jean sighs. If it were beautiful out, the sun would be shining and it would be ninety degrees. “But it’s freezing.”

“It’s still pretty."

Jean looks over and discovers with annoyance that Marco is making snow angels on the ground. His eyebrow twitches a little. It's one thing to go outside. It's another to actually play.

“You’re so immature,” Jean comments. Marco looks over, only laughing at his somewhat insult.

“And you have a stick up your butt!” He giggles. If Jean didn’t know better, he wouldn’t be able to tell that Marcos ranking seventh in their class. The boy making freaking snow angels on the ground is seventh. _Seventh._

He’s not jealous of Marco, of course. It’s just surprising someone so immature could be so good at destroying titans. A single mistake could put the titan’s teeth straight through you—making it like you never existed. You wouldn’t find Eren Yeager or Corporal Levi playing in the snow. But Marcos different. Marcos stupid freckled Marco.

Then, Marco grabs Jean by the arms and pulls him down on the snow. He straddles Jean’s waist and starts to move Jean’s arms up and down in a very snow angel like pattern. With a huff, Jean yanks his arms and pushes Marco off him into a pile of snow, rolling away. Marco starts to pout.

“Knock it off,” Jean groans, wiping the snow off his coat. “If anyone else would’ve tried that, I would’ve punched them.”

“You’re mean,” Marco mutters, pulling his knees to his chest. Jean rolls his eyes, watching as a shiver tears through Marco. He realizes that Marco’s hood is down, jacket unzipped. No wonder he looks so cold. The guy can’t even manage to put his own hood up. How infuriating.

Marco has a tendency to infuriate Jean.

Everything Marco does bothers him in some way, but at the same time Jean loves every single move he makes. Nothing—except for the titan’s reason for living—has ever confused him so much. How can you hate someone, but love them?

It must be his grace when he fights. How smoothly he runs the blade through the back of one titan’s neck, and then turns to the next without a moment’s hesitation. Or perhaps it’s the way he crinkles his nose when he smiles, freckles disappearing into a cave of dimples.

No, it has to be Marco’s strange ability to make everyone around him happy. In the Scout Regiment, people don’t smile unless they have to. When’s the last time Jean saw Eren or the Corporal smile genuinely? Once in a while he’ll see Corporal Levi raise the corners of his lips at Eren, and then watch Eren do the same, but that’s about it. It's just one of those knowing things; like you see a person and can tell what they are thinking. Everyone does that. But, in a world of death, where you’re living every day to see the next, happiness tends to not be a priority. There’s something about Marco, though, that puts at least half a grin on everyone’s face.

It’s all of these things that make Jean admire Marco—even though he won’t admit it. So, yeah, Marco’s extremely annoying, carefree, and happy, but Jean still loves him with all his soul. He can’t help it. It’s the Marco effect.

So, Jean grabs the hood of Marco’s jacket, and pulls it over his head.

“Aren’t you cold?”

He shakes his head, “I really like winter.”

 Marco’s blush—not completely from the cold, Jean notices—makes his own cheeks start to burn. He pushes Marco’s head down to cover that pathetically adorable face of his, yelling at him, stammering;

“You’re going to get frostbite!” Of course this is a lie.

Marco struggles, “Jean?”

He’s oblivious to how much one simple look can affect Jean.

“Your coats not even zipped!”

How hard is it for him to take care of himself? He’s like one of these kids playing outside.

Marco laughs, “sorry,” and zips up his coat.

Jean keeps Marco’s face out of sight for a second longer, and then releases and wraps his arms around himself. “The last thing we need is for you to get frostbite. We need you out on the field.”

Marco grins that over exaggerated grin of his and leans forward and kisses Jean on the lips. This time, Jean pulls his own hood over his head and turns away, blushing—mortified. He can’t show weakness, especially in front of _Marco_. If Jean melts after one kiss, he’ll never be able to live it down. He’d rather be cut in half by a titan than be caught _blushing_ by Marco.

He hears Marco laugh, “whatever you say, Jean.”


End file.
